


You're What?

by 17daysgreys



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Clubbing, Drinking, Scandal, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-03
Updated: 2018-03-19
Packaged: 2019-01-29 00:06:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12618620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/17daysgreys/pseuds/17daysgreys
Summary: Robb is getting married to Jeyne Westerling in a few weeks, so he takes his three groomsmen, Jon, Theon, and Gendry to Braavos for a weekend of drinking, partying, and relaxation before Robb becomes a married man. They get a little more than they bargained for one night.





	1. Chapter 1

Robb Stark was getting married to Jeyne Westerling in three weeks, so what did the overzealous Stark plan? None other than a bachelor’s trip to Braavos. So he dragged his brother Jon, best friend Theon, and old confidant Gendry across the narrow sea.

“You sure this is the right place? Looks a bit dead,” Theon complained as the twenty-six year old lads made their way into the club.

“I’ve been told the action is downstairs, if you can get down there,” Robb defended. 

“And how do you suppose we do that?” Theon pressed.

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way.” There really wasn’t a way; Robb just bribed someone who looked like a bouncer to get them in. As soon as the doors opened to the downstairs part of the club, Gendry was in awe. Women were in cages dancing from the ceiling, the room was packed wall to wall with people, and the bartenders were even performing stunts as they gave people their drinks. He was amazed. 

“You did not disappoint us,” Theon grabbed Robb by the shoulders with glee.

“All right boys, here’s to Robb,” Jon shouted as he distributed the tequila shots. 

Gendry winced as he took his, he’d never been a fan of tequila, so when he went to place the glass down he turned his head ever so slightly and he could have sworn he saw a ghost. Her hair was curled ever so slightly and just grazed her shoulders, she’d lost most of her baby fat from childhood, that could be seen from the mini-skirt she wore and tight crop top that revealed her toned abs. She had a drink in hand and she was dancing like no one was watching. He hadn’t seen her in five years, not since she moved to Braavos for University and as much as he and her had meant to stay in touch, they hadn’t. To him, Arya Stark would always be the one that got away. He stared at her a bit longer, hoping that she’d catch his eye or that maybe her brothers would see her and confirm it was her, because a part of him could not believe that Arya Stark became that beautiful. 

“Oi,” Theon bopped him in the head, “Get your head out of the gutter mate and take the bloody shot,” Theon commanded. Gendry obliged, begrudgingly. 

So for the rest of the evening he tried to get his mind off the petite brunette girl who looked like a ghost from his past, until he saw her dancing with some man with blue hair. It looked harmless at first, then there were hands in places where hands didn’t belong and soon enough they were making out. He tried to look away and then he heard Robb and Jon shout.

“Get your bloody hands off of our sister.” And Arya turned around, with her hands still on the man’s chest with terror in her eyes. 

Arya took a deep breath in, trying to compose herself while her brothers walked up to her with blood in their eyes, “Jon, Robb,” she leaned in to hug them like nothing was wrong, “Fancy seeing you here. How are you?”

“Who are you?” Robb blatantly ignored her and stood square in front of the man Arya was with, her hand never left his, which lead Robb to be more confused.

“Aegon, but most people call me Griff.” 

“And what were you doing with our sister,” Jon added. 

“Nothing,” he stuttered.

“Nothing?” Robb inquired, “It sure didn’t look like nothing, did it Jon?”

“Sure didn’t,” Jon added. 

Arya groaned, “Jon, Robb, I’m an adult and I can make my own decisions. Aegon is my husband you dimwits.” And then she flashed the ring that was clear as day on her left ring finger at them.  
Jon and Robb practically passed out, neither of them said a word, their mouths just hung open waiting for the flies to come in a catch honey. Theon and Gendry were still waiting over at the bar, they didn’t want to be involved in the brotherly intervention. But before they knew it, Arya was walking away with the blue haired man and Jon and Robb looked like they had just been hit by a bus.

“Did you know she was?” Robb asked Jon.

“Not a clue in the world,” Jon responded. 

“You fellas look like you could use another drink,” Theon chimed in.

“What was that about?” Gendry asked, “Who was that guy?” 

“Arya’s husband,” Robb answered and the color immediately drained from Gendry’s face.


	2. Chapter 2

Flashback five years earlier: 

Arya was a senior at Winterfell High and exploring her options for universities. She was top of her class, having over a 4.0 g.p.a. And was captain of the varsity fencing team. Colleges were gawking at her feet, particularly Braavos University. She hadn’t intended on going so far away from home, but the House of Black and White rarely extend full scholarships to foreigners. However, a part of her wanted to remain close to her family and stay in Winterfell. Everyone else had when they went off to school, even Gendry, who’s now graduated along with Robb and Jon.   
Arya and Gendry were best friends who did everything together. They met when he moved to Winterfell after his mom died eight years ago and they’d been pretty much inseparable ever since. That was until Gendry got to high school and started to become better friends with her brothers and Theon than her. It hurt to watch their friendship fade from best friends to mere acquaintances, but Arya simply attributed it to growing up. She and Gendry were at different stages in their lives and no matter how much she willed herself to be two years older or he two years younger, nothing was going to change. 

Arya had a week to decide which University to attend, but she couldn’t make a decision for the life of her. One afternoon, she came in through the kitchen after fencing practice for some odd reason, so Robb and Gendry didn’t see her walk in, but she could hear them talking loudly over the T.V. 

“So Arya still doing fencing,” Gendry asked Robb.

“Yeah, she’s gotten a couple of scholarships for it,” Robb replied.”

“Really, where?” 

“Here and Braavos.” 

“Braavos?” 

“Yeah,” Robb answered, “Why are you asking me, didn’t she tell you herself.” 

“We’re not friends,” Gendry answered quickly, and when Arya heard him say it her heart got caught in her throat. She tried not to cry; she wasn’t going to cry over him. Over the boy who used to be her best friend whom she slowly developed a crush on, the boy she was pretty sure she was in love with just rejected her. She felt horrible and ran upstairs as swiftly as she could, through the back staircase in the kitchen. 

Robb looked at Gendry with confused eyes, “I didn’t mean it like that,” Gendry corrected, “We’re not friends like we used to be, so she didn’t tell me, or maybe I was too afraid to ask,” Gendry admitted. He honestly missed Arya, her teasing, her laugh, the way she used to call him ‘stupid’, but he was too old for her and he was developing feelings that he knew he shouldn’t have. So, he distanced himself from her, it was wrong, he knew it, but he felt like he had to. However, he’s praying that she stays in Winterfell; maybe with her being older it’ll be okay for him to have these feelings. 

Cat had called Arya down for dinner an hour or so later and as she rushed downstairs, she was greeted by her entire family and Gendry. Of course he had to stay for dinner. 

“I have an announcement to make,” Arya stated. Ned and Cat looked at each other with anticipation, both of them had placed bets on which school Arya was going to choose so had her siblings. Sansa was team Braavos all the way, while her brothers had all bet one months allowance that she was going to stay in Winterfell. 

“I’ve chosen to go to Braavos,” Arya said looking anywhere but Gendry’s eyes. The rest of the Stark family knew how Arya and Gendry tiptoed the line of friendship and something more years ago and you’d have to be blind to not notice the look of adoration in the other’s eyes when they’re in the same room. So it made sense was Robb and Theon both turned to Gendry and saw the heartache in his eyes and how Arya’s gaze was only at the tablecloth in her hand. 

“That’s great,” Cat exclaimed, “Oh we have to celebrate.”

“Congratulations,” Ned offered his daughter. 

Two weeks later Arya was putting the last of her stuff into her father’s SUV, ready to drive to the airport and head off to Braavos. As a fencing scholarship recipient, she had to spend the summer in Braavos to start training with the team. She didn’t mind, what was keeping her in Winterfell anyway? 

“So you’re really leaving?” Gendry interrupted her thought process as she was putting a laundry basket of things in the trunk.

“I am,” she answered coldly. 

“I’m sorry,” he shyly said, she didn’t look at him, “I’ve been distant lately and that’s not how I wanted to be. It’s amazing that you’re going to Braavos, you deserve it.” 

“Thank you.” 

“I mean it, keep in touch, don’t go disappearing on me out there,” he smiled. 

She looked him square in the eyes and replied, “Friends keep in touch.” 

He watched her as she got in the car with her father, saying goodbye to all her siblings and feigning a goodbye for him. He had hope in his heart that maybe Arya would forgive him and they could start fresh, but she had never reached out to him nor he to her; he had practically forgotten about her until he saw her dancing in Braavos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this chapter. Hope it gives a little insight on the gendry and arya situation. Next chapter we'll begin to understand why the family didn't know about her life in Braavos.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s where the story begins. I want to explore Arya in Braavos and those five years that she’s disappeared from her family’s life and why. So expect longer chapters and some interwoven stories of awesomeness.

Winterfell was not known for its heat, snowfalls yes, hot springs built into the castle walls, sure, a Godswood that puts every other one in the Seven Kingdoms to shame. Braavos was known for nothing but their heat, the sun was already blistering Arya’s skin and she’d only been outside for an hour unpacking her bags, and the faceless men. She misses the breeze of Winterfell and the thought of sitting in the Godswood with Rickon or telling tales of Visenya Targareyn to Bran, but she needs a fresh start. Coming to Braavos is going to help her grow, become her own person, not Arya horse face, not arry, not ‘arya underfoot’, and especially not Lyanna, but Arya Stark.

“I think we have got you all moved in, pup,” Ned told Arya as he hauled another box they had shipped from Winterfell. 

“I think we do,” Arya replied. She bit her lip in anticipation, gaze stuck on the ground watching her right foot cross over her left foot aimlessly. 

“Arya,” his voice grew a bit concerned, “What are our words?” 

“Winter is coming.” 

“Aye,” he smiled, “And to remember, the lone wolf may die, but the pack survives. You’re far from us, little wolf, don’t be a stranger.”

“I am a Stark first, I will always be a Stark, and you never have to worry about that.” 

Ned pulled his daughter into a hug and laughed, “No, I don’t think I ever will. Now your sister on the other hand.” 

They hung around in Arya’s dorm room for a few more minutes, before it was absolutely imperative that Ned leave, so he could make his flight back to Winterfell. Neither one of them spoke, too worried that if they broke the tension the other would crumble with emotion. Ned didn’t want to see his little girl go and if he wasn’t one hundred percent sure this was the best thing for her, he would have forbade her to go. But she’s turned into a remarkable, beautiful, young woman who can make her own choices. 

Well Arya looked at her father with a half smirk on her face, he represented everything she ever wanted in life, acceptance. She knew her family loved her, but her mother berated her every day for not being girly enough, or Sansa and Jeyne would call her ugly, and well she’d play with her brothers, she’d never be a brother, always destined to be on the outside. Only two people treated her like she belonged in both the worlds, regardless of how crooked her stitches are or how amazing her signature-fencing move is, were Jon and her father. Maybe he was living vicariously through Lyanna, she didn’t know and she didn’t care, because he let her have freedom and she could not be more grateful. 

Ned checked his watch, “8:15, love, I have to go,” he enveloped her in a deep hug, “You have her spirit, little wolf, I know you hate me when I say it. But you are Lyanna, in more ways than just her spirit.” 

“Thank you. I love you,” she kissed him on the cheek. 

“Make me proud,” he beamed as he shut the door behind him. 

As soon as she heard that door pull shut the tears started falling like waterfalls. Arya wanted to call someone, but the only person she could think of was Gendry. Back when they first met, her father had begun working for his old best friend Robert Baratheon, and while touring a facility Ned fell and broke his leg in three places. Arya had been worried sick because the leg got infected and Ned had to be hospitalized for over a month, even facing sepsis at his lowest point. She had only found comfort in a soft-spoken orphan from King’s Landing who had been taken in by Mikken. He had listened to her cry, watched her refuse to eat for days at a time, and worry about the possibility of Ned dying. 

Ned was the head of the Stark family; he was the glue that kept them all together. No Ned, no Starks. Arya wasn’t the glue of her family or even a supporting layer, things did not falter when she left. She was half convinced that none of her family cared that she was here. They barely talked to her the past couple of weeks while she was packing and getting ready to come to Braavos. They all had their own lives. Robb and Jeyne, Jon and the wall, Sansa and Willas, Theon and anything that’ll fuck him with a pulse, even Bran and Rickon had school and girls and whatnot to deal with. Even Gendry, had something better to do for two weeks straight, instead if hanging out with her and then he said a measly goodbye about how since they’re friends they should stay in touch. 

She threw her phone; it smashed against the wall, “Fuck,” Arya groaned. She was going to check her text messages, there weren’t any she was sure of it, but it’s too late now.

“Hey, is everything alright in here?” A girl with a short blonde bob and a pointed nose asked Arya. She was holding a key in her hand and looked like she had a garbage bag of clothes with her.

“I tripped and threw my phone and it hit the wall,” Arya shamefully showed, who she presumed to be her roommate, the damaged cell phone. 

“A lie,” the girl replied. 

“Excuse me,” Arya asked. 

“You lied, you didn’t trip. Because nothing else seems to be out of place. The table is upright, no cups are broken on the floor, and the carpet isn’t covered in the red wine that you have perched a little too close to the edge of the table. 

“Fine,” Arya scoffed, “I didn’t trip. I threw my phone. Happy? I threw my phone against the wall like some crazy person who can’t handle her emotions.”

“You should join the faceless men,” the mysterious girl suggested, “I was a girl from a noble house in Westeros, much like yours a few years ago. I had a name, friends, and family, but I was no one in a crowd. The faceless men help you to become someone, anyone you desire. They mold you into a muse.” 

“Can anyone join?” Arya asked, intrigued. 

“Only those who are willing to give the gift.” 

“And what’s that?” Arya played along. 

“You have to give up your old life. You would no longer be Arya Stark. It’s the only way for you to become a muse.” 

“I,” she hesitated, “I like being Arya Stark, but maybe being no one would be interesting,” she thought. 

Arya gazed at her waist length hair that was constantly frizzy and either piled on top of her head or in a braid. It was the color of horse poop, dark with no dimension and it reeked of stereotypical northern girl. She stroked it, her hand didn’t run through it near as smooth as Sansa’s ran through her own hair, it got caught in an endless tangle of snarls’. She stared at herself in the mirror, examining her pale skin that looked like it had been bitten by winter and her storm colored grey eyes that reminded her so much of Jon.   
Arya Stark had never thought of herself as beautiful, comely, possibly, but never beautiful. If someone told her she was pretty she always assumed it was a jape and would laugh it off. Eventually no one thought Arya cared about how she looked. She wasn’t a proper lady, who would hold sewing circles and ensure each place setting was in order, but she was still a woman and she liked being acknowledged for her beauty, strength, and wit. 

“Hand me the scissors,” Arya instructed the waif. She grabbed a chunk of her frizzy hair, right about her collarbone length and cut it off. She quickly did the other side as her new roommate stared at her with disbelief. Arya shook out her head and squealed. She cut at her hair until it fell about an inch above her collarbone and there were a few shorter layers framing her face. She looked at herself in the mirror as she shook out her head, and she could have sworn she thought she looked beautiful. 

“I’ve never felt so free,” she laughed, “Mother and Sansa would have killed me if they knew I did that.” 

“Well they’re not here,” her roommate, added.

“No they are not,” Arya stated, “So tell me more about the faceless men.” 

“So, there’s an information meeting tonight at the House of Black and White, which is their main base. It’s where we meet to practice our dancing, painting, and language skills, as well as to discuss being the muse. It’s so spiritually uplifting, you forget whom you are when you step inside the temple, all your pains, worries, fears, and they’re gone. It’s truly a euphoric experience. I can take you there tonight, if you want,” the girl offered. 

“I think I’d like that.” 

“Are you gonna,” she pointed to Arya’s hair, “Fix that?” 

Arya swiftly put her hair up in a messy bun and squealed, “Ta-da,” now I looked even more put together than you.” Half of her hair had fallen out of the bun and there were still some stragglers framing her face. She got some dye from the pharmacy across the street and dyed her hair a dark charcoal brown, much darker than her natural color. She also bought some makeup and spent fifteen minutes trying to smudge eyeliner on her eye without blinding herself. 

“You look like a crazy person,” her roommate boasted, “Are you going to change your identity whenever you meet someone new?” 

“No,” Arya laughed, “Only when I am on a different continent than everyone I know. Besides you and I don’t even know your name.” 

“Karina,” the girl said, “My name’s Karina. But they call me the waif at the house of black and white, they’ll probably call you something to.” 

Arya bit her lip with anticipation, “I wonder what it could be.” 

The walk to the House of Black and White was pretty quick; it was just a few blocks off campus. The exterior was breathtaking. Arya couldn’t help but run her hand up and down the weirdwood tree doors, one white, and the other black. 

“I thought the old gods were only in the North,” Arya said. 

“There are still those that remember, a girl should know that,” a mysterious man interrupted. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be offensive,” Arya backed away. 

“Silly girl,” he laughed, “You did nothing wrong. I’m Jaqen, I’m the leader of the faceless men.”

“Really? And what’s the leader doing out here, shouldn’t he be inside, instructing?” She quipped.

Before she knew it, Jaqen had led her inside and shut the door behind her before announcing to the crowd of people, “To recruit new members.” 

The audience roared with laughter as Arya was still processing what was going on. She quickly rushed to sit down in a chair next to Karina, hoping to stay as inconspicuous as possible.  
“Every year, I select one person to be granted access into the faceless me. This person is hand selected by me because of their talent, drive, and ambition. I was made aware by the particular inductee when I heard of our greatest Bravoosi water dancing, fencing tutor went to Winterfell,” Arya’s face dropped at the mention of her home, “Please welcome Arya Stark.” 

Karina nudged her to get up and accept Jaqen offer, so she got up, walked with her head held high and stood next to Jaqen in front of the entire room, “Lovely, girl,” he whispered to her, “You have no idea how much you belong here.” He turned around to face the crowd and exclaimed, “Cat of the Canals, welcome to the faceless men.” 

The first rule of being a member of the faceless men, no cell phones. Phones were distractions that kept you from truly appreciating the natural world around you and the human connections you could be making. Next, no social media. Intimate moments with friends or loved ones are not to be paraded online to make other people jealous. And lastly, you must be willing to give the gift.   
As the start of school came around Arya began to feel less and less homesick and more like she was becoming her own person. She was going exclusively by Cat now, a nod to her mother she thought, but she liked being called Cat. It was short and to the point, like her. Her summer had been mostly filled with training with the fencing team and e-mailing her parents about Braavos and how she was going to live without a phone. She sent e-mails to her siblings, but they rarely if ever responded, so she sent them less and less. 

“What classes do you have?” Karina asked Arya.

“Biology, maths 2, French, and kickboxing. You?” 

“Linguistics 2, maths 2, geography, and water-dancing elective.” 

“Sounds like you have a busy schedule,” Karina joked, “You sure you can come to meetings?” 

“Absolutely,” Arya said, brushing her long bob length length hair behind her ear, “I’m dedicated to the order.” 

“It’s such a good place for you Cat,” Karina put a hand on Arya’s shoulder and rubbed in circles, “Letting yourself be a blank canvas to let the muse out is what you need to do.” 

Karina left Arya at a coffee shop right outside campus, telling her that it was essential she try their carrot muffins before her first day. So, Arya shuffled in to the hole in the wall shop and waited in line for what felt like ten minutes. She quickly ordered the carrot muffin and berated herself for wasting so much time waiting for it. She wasn’t paying attention when she turned into the guy grabbing his coffee.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” she tried to get napkins to help clean him off. 

He took the napkin from her hand and started dabbing his shirt, not breaking eye contact with Arya, “It’s okay, and I’m wearing black.” 

“You’re sure? You’re fine?” 

“I’m fine,” he grinned, “I’m Griff by the way,” he offered her his hand.

“Cat,” she replied. 

“Cat,” he smiled, “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before, Cat.” 

“That’s because I’ve never been here.”

“Where have you been?” 

“Places.” 

“You’re a tough nut to crack, aren’t you Cat?” Griff asked. 

She stared at the blue haired stranger, with a scruffy five o’clock shadow, and piercing purple eyes and said, “Only when I need to be,” she looked down at her watch, “Shit,” she huffed, “I’m gonna be late.” 

“Late?”

“First day of college,” she responded quickly as she headed towards the door.

“Can I see you again?” 

She stopped and looked at him, eyed him up and down looking to see if there was a microphone taped on him somewhere and this was a cruel joke. But he looked genuine, so she said, “Yes. I don’t have a phone, but here’s my e-mail,” she quickly jotted it down on a napkin and handed it to him, “e-mail and we can set something up. It was nice meeting you Griff,” she huffed as she ran out the door.

“You too, Cat,” he waved, “You too, Cat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading. There's more coming.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1 year later...

1 year after Arya left for Braavos  
Aged 18

Ned Stark had enjoyed being the head of Stark Industries, a technology company started by his father and passed down to him. It, as well as his family, was his pride and joy. Being a Stark practically meant being royalty in Westeros and so his father had betrothed his younger sister, Lyanna to the heir of Baratheon Corp. Robert Baratheon. However, after a business conference in Harrenhal, Lyanna met and fell in love with the King’s son and they disappeared. Some say he kidnapped her others say she went willingly, but the only thing that needs to be known is Lyanna Stark left her family and she died a year later. Leaving Robert heartbroken, Ned without his father and brother and sister, as well as Westeros without its King and his family. 

Some stragglers, like Daenerys and Viserys made it across the Narrow Sea, much to Ned’s appreciation. He hated the way Tywin butchered Elia and her children. They were innocent in his eyes. So, each night he said a small prayer for the safety of Daenerys, since her brother died years ago in a tragic horse-riding accident. She had become to Mayor of Meereen and was making quite a spectacle of herself in Essos. He prayed that she wouldn’t come back to Westeros, not until her father’s murder case was closed. Although he was the King’s son and acted with little to no sense, he was murdered and until his murderer was found, Westeros was not safe for any Targareyns. 

“Sir, I have some of the images you asked me for,” Jory Cassel, his assistant knocked on his office door. 

“Yes, Jory, thank you please bring them in.” 

Jory handed Ned the photos and watched patiently as his boss’ face showed little to no reaction. 

“They say he’s called Griff,” Jory added, “Griff Connington. Grew up in Tyrosh, raised by Jon Connington and his Septa. Good lad, lives in Braavos, sings in a band. Never went to official college, but I’m sure he’s well educated, given,” he rambled.

Ned stopped him, “We don’t know if it’s him. It could be a fake for all we know.” 

“But why would Connington of all people have him? Varys I could see, but Jon was as noble as they come. That’s the lost prince.” 

A knock came at the door; Ned was expecting Gendry to stop by as he usually did on Friday afternoons. Ned was grooming Gendry to take over Baratheon Corp., secretly, now that Robert was dead and had no legitimate heirs. He would deal with Cersi and her wrath eventually, but he didnd’t want to see the company go to waste. So he and Renly decided to bypass Cersi’s children and have willed the company to Gendry upon Renly and Stannis’ deaths. 

“Jory, could you let Gendry in on your way out I’ll review these more and we can go over what to do next in the morning.”

“Of course, sir. Good night.” 

Jory opened the door and greeted Gendry, the lad still had the bluest eyes he’d ever seen, he’s half-convinced he’s staring into the fucking ocean when he looks at the boy, “Gendry.” 

“Jory.” 

“Gendry, take a seat we have a lot to discuss.” 

“Evening Mr. Stark,” Gendry was still not comfortable with calling him Ned even though Mr. Stark had assured him it was okay, “Why do you have a picture of A girl leaving an apartment on your desk?” 

“Hmm,” he groaned, he hadn’t noticed the girl. he flipped through the pictures quickly before noticing something in the last one. A girl, petite, whose hair was short, with grey eyes like a storm exiting the apartment complex that ‘Aegon’ lived in. The girl that looked a bit too much like, “Arya,” he whispered. 

Then Ned shot up like a bat out of hell, “Gendry I’m so sorry, but I need to go. Tell my wife it’s an emergency and I’ll see her in a couple of days. I’m taking the jet to Braavos.”  
“Is something wrong?” 

Ned looked Gendry square in the eye and held the boy’s shoulder, “Yes.” And left the room. 

 

Arya had been seeing Griff for over a year now, he gets her and she gets him. They fence together; surprisingly she spilled coffee on someone who actually knows how to fence. She’s traveled with him a bit for his gigs, not going too far, but she’s seen Meereen once and Lys twice. They aren’t lying when they talk about the whores in Lys, Arya felt like a Catholic schoolgirl the entire time she was there and had to fight like Hell to get the women away from Griff.

They had been dating for six months when he had first said he had a secret. She knew his name wasn’t Griff, just like he knew hers wasn’t Cat. Although he figured out her name less than two weeks into dating, but still insisted on calling her cat. She never asked him about his secret, he had told her that Griff wasn’t his birth name and that was it.

Nine months into dating he told her he loved her. They had been watching some random reality TV. show and she started laughing her butt off over something and in that moment he just said it, ‘I love you, Arya Stark’ and she replied, ‘I love you too.’ He told her his name that night and his entire life story. 

A year into dating they had decided to move in together, it was cheaper, they already spent all their time at one another’s places, and they wanted to be able to have sex whenever they wanted wherever they wanted. 

“Arya, someone’s at the door,” Aegon groaned, never the early riser. 

“I’m not getting it, it’s not my turn,” she coldly replied besides I have to get ready for class. 

“Fine, he groaned, I’ll be the adult. But it doesn’t mean I’m putting on a shirt,” he winked.

“I wouldn’t expect any less. Let me know how much the little girl selling cookies fawns over you.” 

“Wouldn’t want to make you jealous?” 

Arya just laughed it off and kicked his muscular butt out of bed. He had been working out a lot lately, so his six-pack was well defined. He pulled on a pair of grey sweatpants and answered the door. 

“Hello,” Aegon greeted. 

“I’m sorry, I think I may have the wrong apartment,” the man stuttered. Then Arya walked out of their bedroom, wearing nothing but his over-sized t-shirt and a black thong that thankfully was covered. She never even looked at the front door, only groggily making her way to the kitchen to pour herself a cup of coffee then she heard the slightest grunt, dropping the pot instantly and turning around ever so slowly because the next few milliseconds were going to be the only ones where her father wasn’t her, at her apartment, where she lived with a boy. 

“Daddy,” she said, “It’s nice to see you. What are you doing here?” 

“Do you want to tell me why the Targareyn boy is at your apartment?” 

“Sir,” Aegon tried to interrupt, “My name is Griff, and I’m not a Targareyn.” 

“I’m coming into this apartment and we’re going to have a nice long chat as to why my daughter, who hasn’t bothered to call in weeks, is only wearing a t-shirt and the door is being answered by a shirtless man at 7:00 in the morning. I’m old, Arya, not dense. So, you’re going to explain to me what’s going on or I’m going to take you home.” 

“What?” Arya shrieked. 

“He’s dangerous, Arya.”

“No he’s not.” 

“There are still people who want to kill him.” 

“People want to kill you,” Arya spat out.

“I would never do anything to put Arya in harm’s way, honest. I know my real name is Aegon and I know who my father was. But I’ve lived my entire life as Griff Connington. I’m happy playing shows and living in Essos, I want no part in Westeros politics or anything like that.” 

“Be that as it may,” Ned sighed, “But the world is going to discover that you didn’t die all those years ago and if my investigators found you when we weren’t even looking that hard, I’m sure Tywin has had tabs on you for over a decade.” 

“Let him,” Arya scoffed, “It doesn’t make a difference.” 

Ned just sighed, he knew instantly that his youngest daughter was in love and he would be hard pressed to make her see reason. But he’d be lying if he didn’t admit that they fit together like two perfect pieces, the true embodiment of a song of ice and fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter we'll see SPRING BREAK action and a special event happen... stay tuned!!


	5. Mereen Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spring Break Plans are Made

Everyone! I’m sorry about being a complete fuck and not updating anything in a very, very, shamefully long time. I’ve had school and lack of inspiration. Anyways, I’m going to attempt to do at least 3 updates by this weekend.

 

 

Secrets Chapter 4:

 

Most everyone from King’s Landing University went to Dorne for spring break; it was like a right of passage. If you could manage to keep your wits about you in Dorne, you’d be able to do it anywhere. However, Robb Stark was not one to follow the crowds. He thought the Dronish resorts were overcrowded, overpriced, and the alcohol they served was subpar. No, he was going to take his three best friends, Jon, Gendry, and Theon to Mereen, a secret vacation destination that no one around campus really knew about.

“Dorne is going to be amazing,” Theon mentioned as the boys were sitting at their favorite bar, _Tobho Mot’s_ nursing some beers after they had just taken Pycelle’s literature final.

“About that,” Robb began, “I didn’t book the flight to Dorne.”

The boys all went quiet and stared at Robb in disgust.

“It’s tomorrow, you twat,” Theon started to yell.

“Theon, calm down,” Jon urged.

“No, I will not bloody calm down. This is our last sprig break and the ‘King in the North’ forgot to book the tickets, so now the fuck is trying to get us drunk so he can tell us all about his stupidity.”

Robb just put his face in his hands, “I didn’t forget to book the tickets, but I have a surprise for you guys,” Robb’s face had a devilish smile on it which Jon knew could only mean one thing.

“You didn’t,” Jon gapped, “Robb, father let you?”

“Father doesn’t know.”

“Father doesn’t know what?” Theon practically yelled, causing a few girls at the table next to them to turn their heads.

“Sorry,” Gendry mentioned to them, “He’s just a bit excited, it’s his new medication.”

That earned a laugh from the girls and Jon and Robb as well, while Theon sat there pouting like a three-year old.

“Robb, you best get on with it, he looks like he’s going to shite himself,” Gendry laughed.

“We’re going to Mereen!”

“No fucking way!” Theon yelled, “We’re seriously going to Mereen! Only the coolest people go there,” he totally sounded uncool for saying the world cool, but he didn’t care.

“Yeah, we’re staying at a beach front resort, right in the heart of the city. We’d be walking distance from the Great Pyramid and Daenerys.”

Daenerys Targaryen was famous throughout Westeros and Essos for being a teenager when she ‘conquered’ Essos. By conquered, everyone meant she ran a kickass mayoral campaign at 18 and was elected the mayor of Mereen, but also had city council seat spots in Lys, Pentos, and Asshai. She was well on her way to becoming a political mastermind and everyone joked that she would one day come and take over Westeros, since it was her family who used to be in power. She was rumored to be drop dead gorgeous and even sometimes went out at night in Mereen, under the disguise, it was said if you could spot her she’d take you up to the highest point of the Great Pyramid.

“We gonna try and spot the Khaleesi,” Theon cooed.

Robb and Jon both rolled their eyes, “You seriously think the mayor goes out at night and parties under a disguise. Theon, I knew you weren’t always the brightest, but this is just plain stupid,” Jon stated.

“You’re just jealous that’d she’d definitely prefer me over you.”

“Sure Theon, sure,” Jon smirked, “At least I don’t have to worry about possibly giving her syphilis.”

Theon’s face went beat red and Robb and Gendry roared with laughter, “You told me you’d never say anything,” Theon hissed.

“My fingers were crossed,” Jon laughed.

“Not fair,” Theon grumbled.

“Yeah, life’s not fair, but eat up Theon, we’re leaving for Mereen in the morning boys,” Robb cheered.

 

 

Arya and Aegon had been together for two years now and everything had been perfect. Especially now that her father knew about her and him, she could breathe a sigh of relief. She still wasn’t ready to tell the rest of her family and even her father knowing felt like an invasion of privacy. The Arya who lived in Braavos with Aegon and her friends ‘the Waif’ and Jaqen, she was completely different from the Arya her family knew.

This Arya was confident, beautiful, she knew her worth; she didn’t let others talk over her or let people treat her as if she was constantly a second thought. Here she was seen. So, she didn’t try to keep in touch with anyone, although it’d be hard to because she refused to have a phone and had no social media accounts to her name. Her family would be able to find her if they searched for Aegon because he had practically a thousand photos of her plastered on his feed, but what Stark would look up a grunge guitarist who’s played roughly ten shows in cities they’ve probably never even heard of.

“Babe,” Aegon called from the kitchen, ever the domestic he was cooking some chicken and asparagus for her to eat because without him she’d probably starve.

“Yeah,” she replied a bit half-heartedly, she was a smidge preoccupied reading for Professor Qyburn’s literature class.

“Babe,” he repeated, this time standing right in front of her, did you hear me?”

She smiled sheepishly and held up her book, a copy of the history of Westeros, “No,” she laughed, “I was a bit busy.”

“Wouldn’t you want to learn the history of Westeros from its true ruler?” Aegon teased.

“Hmm,” she pondered, “I think my first hand experience living there trumps your ‘princely training’,” she laughed.

He feigned shock and held his hand over his chest, “Well, I guess then this entire relationship cannot work out. I’ve only looked forward to describing all the secrets I know of Westeros to my future lover and since you know all those secrets.”

She pulled him down to her lips, “Hush,” she instructed, “There are plenty of things I can learn about an Essosi prince that I can’t learn about Westeros,” she purred, never leaving his line of sight, “And that’s much more interesting to me.”

He grabbed her by the waist and lifted her onto him, grabbing her hair passionately with his left hand and focusing the right on her breast. Their make out session was in full swing, until the annoying alarms of their smoke detector went off.

“Fuck, the chicken,” they both laughed in unison.

After they’d gotten the less than salvageable chicken out of the oven, Aegon began to explain his original line of thought.

“So, I have a show in Mereen next week, which lines up perfectly with your spring break and seeing as you told me last week you didn’t have any ‘specific’ plans, would you want to go with me?”

“You’re asking me like it’s the prom,” she responded.

“Arya,” his tone was slightly forced. He knew not to push her too far, because she was definitely a flight risk. If she knew how serious he was about her then maybe she’d introduce him to her family or at least tell them she’s seeing someone. He remembers the look of shock on her father’s face when he visited a few months ago; it was like he hadn’t even heard from Arya once in the past year and a half.

“I’d love to go to Mereen with you,” she went in to kiss him, but he ignored it.

“Aegon? A second ago you asked me to go with you and now you’re acting like I did something wrong.”

“What are we?” He asked.

“We’re Arya and Aegon, you’re my boyfriend and we’ve been living together for the past year and a half.”

“And what about after you’re done with your studies in Braavos? I’m graduating soon and eventually I want to return to Westeros.”

Her face dropped at the mention of Westeros, “I thought you were going to let Dany take over everything.” Aegon and Daenerys had been in contact for a little a few years, ever since she had become Mayor of Mereen and he had made it clear that he had no intentions of overthrowing her. Plus, they were in the midst of figuring out how to overthrow Cersei Lannister and rid her from the former Targaryen Corp. now named Baratheon Corp. Aegon didn’t need to be C.E.O. or the President or anyone with a position of power, but he did want to clear his family’s name, he needed to do that.

“Arya,” he looked at her deeply with his amethyst eyes, tears were prickling the outsides, and “I don’t know who I am.”

She’d heard the rumors that Aegon, the real Aegon was killed by the mountain, but he continued, “I’ve been told my entire life that I am Aegon Targaryen, rightful ruler to the Iron Throne and with it Targaryen Corp., but I’ll never know for sure. Even if I am one hundred percent the son of Rhaegar and Elia, my sister is dead, my mother and father are both dead, my grandfather was a madman who raped by grandmother. The only family that I have living and breathing is Daenerys, the rest cannot speak for themselves any longer. We are the only ones left who can protect House Targaryen.”

“The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives,” she mutters under her breath.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she shook it off, “I understand though, what you’re saying.”

“You do?”

“Of course, my house is the most important thing to me.”

“You rarely mention your family,” Aegon pressed. They usually never fought, but when they did the topic usually gathered around her family and her secretiveness and his family and his secretiveness.

“My house is my family name, it’s me being a Stark, I will always be proud to be a Stark. However, I’m not proud of my family, Aegon.” She stared at him pointedly, how many times would she have to go through this argument for him to understand, “They treated me like an outsider. No one respected me. No one supported my wishes. Only Jon tried, but he still would get pulled away by Robb and Theon and forget about his little sister. Even my best friend, Gendry, chose my brothers over me,” he noticed how her voice cracked over the name Gendry, but chose not to say anything, “Always second choice. Arya horse face. Arya underfoot. She’ll never be a proper lady,” she chided off as if he was no longer there, “I found a part of myself here, I don’t know if it’s from being in Braavos or from being with you or if it’s simply a new found confidence, but what if I go back there and give my family all of who I am now, and I lose the person I’ve become in Braavos?”

“Arya,” he tucked her hair behind her ear, gently, “That would never happen.”

“You don’t know what they strip away from me, Aegon,” now she was sobbing into his chest, “Always Arya horse face,” she repeated it like a mantra, while Aegon carried her to bed.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is a one shot idea, but I can expand on the story and delve more into the backstory of how each character landed where they are. Also, I know it's OOC for Arya, so let me know if it's too much or not enough. This is my first ASOIAF fic that i'm publishing, so please be kind. I have other ideas in the works as well.


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